


Double Shot

by puss_nd_boots



Series: Stargazer [17]
Category: Alice Nine, the GazettE
Genre: Anal Sex, Food Play, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 21:11:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1525901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puss_nd_boots/pseuds/puss_nd_boots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two couples at a nightclub. Two bottles of a beverage that bear very familiar names. Two hotel rooms waiting upstairs. One night filled with intoxicating possibilities. Taste the pleasure, any way you can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Shot

**Author's Note:**

> An installment of the Stargazer series, written in 2012. Inspired by the discovery by the members of the uruai community on LJ that there existed a type of vodka and shochu called Kai (which I've never found). Contains a couple of surprise character appearances that I didn't want to note in "characters" - because it would ruin the surprise!

Loud nightclubs with lights flashing all over the place were normally not the kind of places you’d find Shou and Hiroto in the evenings. Most likely, if they weren’t working on music, Shou would be in front of the PS3 and Hiroto would be on the computer watching anime - the perfect geek couple.

Tonight, though, was a little different. They’d both felt the urge to really blow off steam, to get dressed and go out. The mixing for the new album was done, they had a full year’s schedule of lives before them, and they’d just had their first anniversary. It was time to celebrate.

Which is why they ended up in a super-hot Shibuya nightspot located in the basement of a trendy hotel. (They’d splurged on a room upstairs, so they didn’t have to go straight home after overindulging). They were sitting at a little round table at the left side of the room, each with a beer in front of them, Hiroto smoking a cigarette.

“Do you think it’s okay for us to dance?” Hiroto said, scanning the crowd. “Okay,” in this case, meant, “Is this place friendly to couples of any orientation, and is there any press that might snap a picture that would get us into deep doo-doo with PSC?”

“I think so,” Shou said. “Look - I don’t think we’d be seeing that if this place wasn’t safe.” He nodded his head toward the dance floor, where two very well-known female idol singers were dancing in a very close fashion. These were people who had even more at stake if they were discovered than Shou and Hiroto.

“Besides,” he said, leaning over and putting his hand over his lover’s, “would I bring you anywhere if I thought it would get us in trouble? What we have is something I wouldn’t want to risk.”

Hiroto squeezed his hand. Shou was right. They were together, this was a relaxed atmosphere, there was no danger of Shou challenging anyone to rock-paper-scissors. He needed to stop worrying and let go.

* * *

Contrary to Uruha’s reputation as a boozehound, you normally didn’t see him and Kai in a place like this, either. But they decided they needed an evening out between their tour final and the commencement of intense work on their new album, and so, here they were, at a little round table on the right side of the room.

Kai looked over to the two empty glasses that were already in front of his lover. Kai was only halfway through his first. It was a damn good thing they’d taken a room upstairs tonight.

“I’ve forgotten how loud these places can be,” Uruha shouted. Their table was much closer to the speakers than Shou and Hiroto’s. Kai could feel the beat going through every part of his body - which was a bit disconcerting for him. It was odd to be feeling a beat when he wasn’t supplying it.

“Well, nobody comes here to talk,” Kai shouted back. No, from the looks of the two very well-known K-pop boys who were all but grinding against each other near them, they came here for other things.  
Uruha’s gaze was obviously on the two pretty young things, too. “I wouldn’t mind doing some of that later,” he said, his fingers sliding across the table and up Kai’s arm.

Kai shifted uncomfortably, looking at the two boys who were now very much making out in public, tongues visibly sliding against each other. “What do you mean?”

“Dancing, silly! What did you think I meant?”

This made Kai take another swallow of his drink. No, he should let his mind go in that direction. At least, not yet.

* * *

The waiter approached Shou and Hiroto’s table with a bottle, two glasses, an ice bucket and a folded card on his tray. He began unloading his burden in front of the two musicians without a word.

“Hey!” Shou said. “What’s this? We didn’t order a bottle of anything.”

“It’s a gift,” the waiter said, placing the card down.

“From who?” Shou said, looking baffled. Crap, did this mean someone from PSC was here tonight? His eyes scanned the crowd, nervously. No faces that were familiar in a not-good way.

“The person wished to remain anonymous,” the waiter said. He bowed politely and left.

“What does the card say?” Hiroto leaned over toward Shou, peering at the thing in his hand.

Shou unfolded it and read, “This bottle literally has your name on it.” He frowned. “What the . . .”

He picked it up and looked at it. The whole thing was written in romanji. The top of the bottle said KAI (well, that wasn’t his name, was it?) and below it was a picture of a piece of ginger and a sheaf of lemongrass.

“Lemongrass-Ginger Shochu,” he read out loud.

So that was what was meant by his name literally being on the bottle. Shochu. Shou-chu.

“Shou-chu?” Hiroto said, wrinkling his nose a little. He wasn’t a huge drinker, but when he indulged, it tended to be beer or some sort of mixed drink. Not straight-up shochu. That stuff was powerful.

“It’s probably worth a try,” Shou said. “At least as a courtesy to whoever sent it.” The whole thing was baffling, really. He put a few ice cubes in both glasses, then poured a little into Hiroto’s, following the Japanese protocol of not pouring your own drinks. Hiroto then took the bottle and poured some out for Shou.

“Well, then?” Shou said, raising his glass. “Kampaii!”

“Kampaii,” Hiroto said, clinking his glass against Shou’s. He took a tiny sip and rolled it around in his mouth. It was . . . intriguing. Pleasant. Very pleasant, in fact. The lemongrass and ginger came together to create a flavor that was spicy, but not mouth-burning.

“This is good,” Shou said, before downing the rest of the small amount in his glass. He wasn’t a shochu drinker either, but this was no ordinary shochu. Or Shou-chu.

“Mmm,” Hiroto said, too occupied with swallowing the rest of his. He put the glass down, the ice cubes making a musical little noise - and saw Shou pick up the bottle.

“More?”

Hiroto gave the expected polite bow. “Thank you very much,” he said. And he’d pour more for Shou after that.

The evening was starting to take an unexpected turn.

* * *

“Literally has your name on it?” Uruha looked up from the card that had come with the bottle which had mysteriously arrived on their table from some anonymous benefactor. The whole thing was just . . .odd. None of their friends knew they were coming here tonight - did they?

Kai picked up the bottle, looked at it, and laughed. “Oh, my God,” he said. “Uruha, did you do this?”

“Do what?”

“Have this label made up.” He turned the bottle toward his lover, so the KAI logo was visible, above the picture of lemongrass and ginger.

“No,” Uruha said. “I had nothing to do with it.” He took the bottle from Kai and examined the label closer. At the bottom of all the romanji was fine print saying that is was produced by a Kai Vodka company in Hawaii. Well, that was why even Uruha hadn’t heard of it before - it was an American brand that was probably just now making its way across the Pacific.

“Well, now that we have it, we might as well try it, right?” Far be it from Uruha to turn down free alcohol. Especially since he’d made scamming drinks off people something of a personal cottage industry in the past. He poured out a drink for Kai with such lightning speed that Kai barely saw his hands move.

“But . . . But . . . We don’t even know what it is.” He took the glass and sniffed it. A pleasantly spicy scent wafted up at him. Well, it smelled nice, at least.

“Oh, it’s just shochu,” Uruha said. “With a couple of fancy flavors added.” Not caring to follow the formal protocol, he poured a drink for himself, then took a deep sip. “Wow,” he said. “WOW. That’s something special.”

Kai finally tasted his own, rolling it carefully around his mouth. And he had to admit that Uruha was right. His amateur chef’s sense of taste was detecting the subtle interplay of the spices and how they harmonized with the underlying alcohol. Oh, he could get used to drinking this - very quickly.  
“Well, look at this,” Uruha said, when he saw how fast Kai drained his glass. “Somebody’s trying to catch up to me.”

“I’m not . . .” Kai blushed a little.

“No shame in it.” Uruha poured another glass for him, a full one this time. “Someone gave it to us, we might as well use it, right?”

There was no faulting the logic in that one. He picked up the glass and drank, eagerly.

* * *

Hiroto was beyond caring about formal protocol. He stopped caring about that at the bottom of the first glass, in fact. A few drops of liquid sloshed onto the table as he started to pour his third, and that made him laugh. The bottle was wonderful. The club was wonderful. Everything was wonderful.

Shou finished his own glass and slammed it down to the table with the force that he usually slammed a rubber hammer on an unfortunate opponent’s head. “Wanna dance?” he said to Hiroto.

Hiroto paused in pouring. Yes, he wanted to dance, but he’d just started to pour another glass of this lovely stuff. He felt Shou’s hand shoot out (even drunk, he was fast) and pull the bottle away from him.

“C’mon, the stuff will still be here when you get back, I promise.” He set the bottle down, grabbed Hiroto’s hand and tugged him to his feet. Hiroto found himself going willingly - but not before slamming back the little bit he’d poured out.

Across the room, a wobbly Uruha was leading an equally-wobbly-for-once Kai onto the dance floor. Kai just sort of drifted, feeling almost floaty. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this drunk. Maybe it was the Stacked Rubbish wrap party on Reita’s birthday. Or maybe he’d never been quite this drunk before. It didn’t matter.

All that mattered now was that Uruha was pulling him into his arms, and they were moving together to the music. It was a strong, fast beat, and he began swaying his hips rapidly to catch up - because, as a drummer, if he couldn’t follow someone else’s beat (even drunk), he was in trouble.

On the other side of the floor, Shou had his arms wrapped around Hiroto’s waist, and they were both kind of swaying to the music, not formally dancing. (Then again, the sort of flailing about Shou did onstage during their live shows wasn’t formal dancing, either). They didn’t really notice the music. All they noticed was each other, and their closeness, and how they could be together like this openly - for once.

Slowly, Hiroto turned around, so his back faced Shou’s front. He leaned backward against him, feeling Shou wrap an arm across his chest and pull him closer. It was like one of their onstage fanservice poses - except this wasn’t for the benefit of the women in the audience.

Hiroto dropped his head onto Shou’s shoulder and pressed his ass against him, their hips still moving in time to the music. Shou’s free hand was roaming his body, moving over his chest and stomach, brushing over a nipple through the fabric.

Hiroto pushed back harder, and now they were moving their hips slowly and deliberately, grinding against each other. They didn’t notice the women around them who had stopped dancing with their dates, or each other, and were now staring, open-mouthed, at the very hot, very beautiful show being put on right in front of them.

Just like the women at the other side of the dance floor, who watched in amazement as Kai and Uruha kissed hungrily, their tongues pressing against each other as Uruha’s hands moved down further over Kai’s back.

Kai pressed against him, not caring about the audience, or that they were in public, or anything but the heat of Uruha’s body pressed against his. Oh, and the hands that were suddenly grabbing his ass. He cared very much about that, especially the way Uruha’s fingers were gently, subtly squeezing, just enough to drive him mad.

He found himself pushing his hips forward, grinding himself against his lover as their tongues caressed one another. If this went any further, they might . . .

Kai took his lips away from Uruha’s just long enough to whisper, “I think we .. . .

“ . . . need to go upstairs,” Hiroto said, breathlessly, reluctantly easing himself away from Shou.  
The party girls later reported seeing two beautiful male couples fleeing the nightclub in a hurry, taking different elevators upstairs. And both, curiously enough, were carrying half-full bottles of Kai Lemongrass-Ginger Shochu.

* * *

When the door closed behind them, Shou pulled Hiroto into an embrace, the bottle of Shou-chu still in his hand. Hiroto felt it against his back as their lips came together, the kiss heating up quickly. He could still taste the lemongrass and ginger on his lover’s lips, his tongue, as they caressed each other with their mouths.

“We still need to finish the bottle, you know,” Shou murmured, his lips against Hiroto’s ear. Hiroto, under normal circumstances, would warn Shou that was a bad idea, that they’d be paying for it in the morning, that they’d never hear the end of it from Saga if they showed up at work hung over. (Not that _Saga_ had ever shown up hung over, of course. Oh, no.)

But the combination of the alcohol in his veins and the heat of their dance floor seduction was stealing his reason away. He wanted nothing more than to taste more of Shou and Shou-chu.

“After we get undressed,” he murmured, already starting to work on Shou’s shirt buttons. “We don’t want to make a mess.”

“Oh, we’ll make a mess.” Shou reached over the put the bottle on the bureau. It almost seemed a sacrifice to let go of the thing, but it was going to be worth it. “But in the nicest possible way.”

He reached for his own buttons and finished the work Hiroto started, quickly – because he was impatient to get things going. He knew of some very creative ways he wanted to consume the rest of that drink, and it wasn’t exactly going to be from a glass. He made short work of his pants and underwear once the shirt was gone, then flopped down on the bed, lying on his side and propping his head up on his hand.

Hiroto could feel a slow burn in his stomach, spreading rapidly to lower regions, as Shou fixed him with the kind of teasing stare that nearly melted cameras and drove fangirls to distraction. Suddenly, it was hot in that room. Very hot.

“Well?” Shou said. “Are you going to catch up, my love?”

Catch up? That was a silly question. His hands nearly tripped over each other unbuttoning his shirt, unfastening his pants. He was amazed he had such dexterity after their alcoholic indulgence, and started wondering if he could play guitar in this state . . .

Except Shou was giving him ideas for far better things to do than that. Like, the way he was running his hand over his own chest, and downward, sighing in pleasure. Well, that was his cue to do something, wasn’t it? He couldn’t let Shou do it himself, and he normally wasn’t so bold, and dammit, what was this Shou-chu doing to him . . .

In one swift motion, he sprang for the bed, grabbing the bottle and unfastening the top. He tipped it over, pouring it on Shou’s chest.

Shou gasped as the liquid poured onto his body, running in cool rivulets down his heated flesh, passing over a nipple before heading down to his navel. And then Hiroto was just about pouncing him, running his tongue over the wet trail, licking up every bit of the gingery, lemony goodness.

Now, it really was Shou-chu.

When he reached the nipple, he circled it with his tongue, because he had to be extra careful to lick up all the alcohol, didn’t he? No use wasting good booze. He closed his lips around the bud, sucking, wanting to get every drop.

“Ooohh, yes!” Shou arched upward, fingers tangling in Hiroto’s hair. “More . . .”

Hiroto raised his head. “More?”

“Please . . . give me more . . .”

“But don’t you want some of this stuff, too?” Hiroto held up the bottle, jiggling back and forth. The liquid sloshed inside, catching the light. “I don’t want to hog all of it to myself.”

Hiroto tipped the bottle again, pouring it over his own chest this time. It was a sensual feeling all its own, the liquid running down his body, the odd combination of coolness and burn.

It was completely tantalizing in its own way.

“Well?” he said, looking at Shou with a smile.

Good Lord, Shou wasn’t going to turn down an offer like that. Especially when Hiroto was so forward. He’d never told his lover that it actually made his blood run hot whenever the little guitarist got like this. If this was what Shou-chu did . . . he was going to invest in more of this stuff.

He leaned over, dragging his tongue slowly over Hiroto’s skin. He noticed a little bit of the liquid had pooled in the hollow his lover’s collarbone, and he lapped at it, letting his teeth scrape the skin just a tiny bit.

“Ohh,” Hiroto moaned. “Oooh, yes . . .”

“I haven’t even started drinking yet,” Shou murmured. He licked slowly down Hiroto’s chest, savoring the familiar taste of his beloved’s skin combined with the new flavor of the liquor. He let his fingers trail around to his ass as his tongue continued its downward journey over his chest . . .

When he began licking at a nipple, Hiroto’s head fell back, and he let out a long, low moan. For some reason, the alcohol was making Shou’s mouth feel even hotter and wetter than it normally did. The sensation was burning him up from the inside, and he pulled the other man closer, holding his head firmly in place.

The bottle started to slip from his fingers, but fortunately, Shou saw it out of the corner of his eye and grabbed it with the hand not caressing Hiroto’s bottom. He lifted his head off the nipple, making Hiroto give out a groan of disappointment.

Shou raised the Shou-chu to his mouth, taking a swig, and then leaned over, kissing Hiroto and tipping his head forward, the drink flowing between them – the most intimate way to share it that there was. They stayed together until they had swallowed every drop, their tongues tangling afterward, as if trying to lick every little trace from each other.

“Mmm,” Shou said, when they finally parted. “I don’t think I ever want to use a glass again.”

“No?” Hiroto took the bottle from him again, pouring a few drops over his fingers, then holding them in front of Shou’s mouth. Shou licked at them, watching for Hiroto’s shudder of pleasure – he knew how much his lover’s hands were an erogenous zone.

“No.” Shou kissed the fingertips. “Not when I can have it like . . .” He slipped the fingers in his mouth and started to suck, and Hiroto let out a soft moan.

He was burning. On fire, from the inside out. His head was swimming from a combination of lust and alcohol, his body shivering with intoxication and pleasure. This was probably more booze than he’d ever drank in one sitting in his life. He was going to pay for it, big-time. Did he care? No.

When Shou’s mouth slipped away from his fingers, Hiroto fell down to the bed face-first, his head on his folded arms and his legs drawn up, slightly apart, offering his gorgeous ass up to his lover. The sight of it made Shou’s heart pound. He left the bed just long enough to find his jacket and reach in the pocket for the lube.

His hand scrambled around, encountering a couple of coins, a toothpick, a piece of Saran wrap that had been around something he’d eaten earlier, and finally the little bottle . . .

And a very wicked idea entered his mind, one he would have never thought of while sober. His hand closed around what he wanted and pulled from his pocket. And there was that perfectly formed bottom, still presented to him like the most wonderful and welcome of gifts.

He put what he was carrying on the bed, grabbed the bottle of Shou-chu, and poured it over Hiroto’s ass. The younger man jumped, yelping a little – well, that was unexpected. But when Shou’s tongue started moving over the sensitive flesh, it brought about another moan. It wasn’t somewhere he expected to feel licking – but that made it all the more exciting.

Shou lapped at the spicy mixture, his senses assaulted by the flavor of lemongrass and ginger, the feel of firm curves beneath his tongue, the sound of Hiroto’s moans of pleasure. He paused to nip, bringing about a small cry. And then, he was licking again, his tongue swirling . . .

Hiroto felt his cleft being gently parted. Oh, yes, this was it, next he was going to feel fingers inside him, and then what he was really waiting for . . . The anticipation was heightened when he felt lube being poured into the space between, and then . . .

A surprise. There was something being stretched over his bottom. What? It felt like plastic. Some kind of odd condom? But why was he putting it on Hiroto, and not himself?

There was something pressing against Hiroto’s entrance now, against the plastic. It was soft, yet strong, and hot, and even through the plastic he could tell it was wet . . .

What was he doing? Was this a toy? He hadn’t seen Shou bring a toy in with them. Whatever it was, it felt good. Damn good. The more it pushed in, the more pleasurable it felt – oh, it was warm, so warm, like body heat . . .

Then, he felt a warm whoosh of air against his entrance. Like an exhaled breath. And it was at that moment when Hiroto realized just what was going on. “Oh!” he cried in shock and surprise. God, he wasn’t really doing this – was he? Oh, yes, he was. It was so kinky, and so forbidden, and so . . . so . . . goddamn exciting.

Shou braced his hands on the sides of Hiroto’s ass as he penetrated him with his tongue, the plastic serving as a barrier, making the act safe and sanitary. It felt amazing, that tight heat he was used to feeling against his fingers, his cock, now wrapped around something else altogether.

It was intimate and sexy. It was wild and crazy. Sober, he would have never tried this. He’d never done it to anyone before. Hell, he’d only had this done to him by one person – Ruki. (And he remembered going crazy with lust when he did it, too).

“Mmm,” he murmured as he wriggled his tongue around, trying to explore as much of Hiroto this way as possible. He felt the muscles clench around him, felt his lover shudder, which made him wriggle it all the more.

Hiroto, meanwhile, thought he was going to burst. Every movement of Shou’s tongue in his passage stimulated a new set of nerves, made sensations that were at once familiar and unfamiliar ripple through him. It flicked to the left, then the right, curved a little, rubbing against a sensitive spot within him that made him moan. He pushed backward, wanting Shou to go deeper, one hand sliding up his chest and caressing his own nipple.

The wonderful, soft, hot thing inside him started to thrust, fucking him steadily, and then Hiroto coud do nothing but moan, lost in a bliss like he’d never known. He felt Shou’s hot breath against him again, felt fingers squeeze his cheeks, and then the rhythm inside him, a soft and gentle pounding . . .

Shou buried his face in his lover, devouring him, the ache in his cock growing stronger – he was going to have to sate himself, sate both of them, pretty soon . . . but he wanted to hold onto this for now.

It was, in many ways, the most intimate thing they’d ever done.

Reluctantly, he pulled his tongue out, giving Hiroto’s entrance a couple more tender licks before backing off entirely, pulling the plastic away. He reached for the lube with trembling hands, pouring it over his fingers.

As it turned out, Hiroto had been so loosened by the tongue play that he didn’t need much stretching. He took two fingers right away with ease, and when Shou slid in a third, Hiroto leaned back against him, eagerly.

The fingers were pulled out, and Shou slicked himself rapidly, reaching for the bottle of Shou-chu for one last gulp. He leaned over Hiroto, and his lover leaned back, turning his head so they could kiss. The liquor flowed between them again, and when Shou’s tongue pushed into his mouth, Hiroto shuddered with heat, remembering how it had just pleasured him.

And then, he was being filled, something hard pushing in where a few minutes ago something soft had been. The invasion was so, so welcome – Hiroto barely registered any pain. All he knew, all he was aware of, was how Shou was sinking in deeper, little by little.

A moment pause, where both lovers breathed deeply, getting used to their connection, savoring each other . . . and then, Shou started to move, a gentle, slow thrust. Hiroto groaned in pleasure. “Shou . . . oh, Shou . . .”

Shou buried his face in his lover’s shoulder, feeling the heat that had surrounded his tongue all around his cock, seeming to draw him in. He began to thrust faster, harder, driving more and more into that sweet, hot, beautiful body.

His hand slipped around his lover’s body, grasping Hiroto’s cock and starting to stroke it in time to his thrusts. “Oooh,” Hiroto moaned, his hips pumping backward against Shou, impaling himself on his lover’s hardness, then moving forward, fucking the hand that grasped and caressed and stroked. “Good,” he moaned. “Good, so very good . . .”

“I love you,” Shou panted, moving faster, pushing harder. “So . . . so . . . goddamn . . . much . . .”

“Love you . . too . . .” Hiroto was so lost in pleasure he was amazed he could get the words out. He could feel the familiar heat in his belly, the sensation of pressure, of being about to explode . . .

When Shou’s thumb flicked over the head of his cock, it was all he needed. He thrust backward hard one last time, shouting his lover’s name as his whole body shook with a long, intense orgasm, his essence pouring over Shou’s fingers.

Shou thrust deeper, harder, trying to bring himself to fulfillment as well, feeling Hiroto thrust back against him again, encouraging him. Finally, he let out a deep, long cry, sparks dancing behind his vision as the pleasure exploded within him at last.

The two lovers fell to the bed together, a panting heap of sweat and Shou-chu, touching and kissing and cuddling, both still trembling with the intensity of what they’d just shared.

“Wow,” Hiroto said, when he was able to draw a full breath again.

“Amazing,” Shou said, pulling him close and nuzzling him. “You feel so good, every way imaginable . . .”

“I want to do that again,” Hiroto said, sleepily. He didn’t know if he meant the rimming or the licking booze off each other or just the wild abandon of the whole thing . . . or all of the above.

“Whatever you want,” Shou said. “Whenever you want it.” He stroked Hiroto’s hair off his sweat-damp forehead.

“Mmmm.” Hiroto nestled against Shou. “Need to clean up. Don’t want to.” He didn’t want to move from this position, break the connection with Shou, shatter the intimacy of the moment.

“We could share a shower,” Shou said. “How does that sound?”

Hiroto nodded. Yes, that was nice. Washing each other off, touching and cuddling . . . he didn’t think they’d be up to doing anything else right now. Of course, they’d surprised themselves before.

And there was still some Shou-chu left, if they needed it.

* * *

Uruha was still carrying the bottle of Kai as they entered their hotel room. He was humming happily to himself, even swinging it a little. He went straight to the minibar and got out two glasses, pouring the ginger-lemongrass fluid into both.

“Here,” he said, holding one out to Kai.

Kai took the glass, feeling rather puzzled. After the way they’d just danced, he expected Uruha to kiss him right off the bat when they got into the room. Instead, he wanted to . . . drink? (Okay, this was Uruha. But still.)

“What’s wrong?” Uruha took a drink from his glass, peering at Kai over the top with a focused, intense gaze. Seductive, even.

“Um . . nothing.” Kai took a swallow of the alcohol, feeling it burn on the way down.

“You don’t like the glass I gave you?” Uruha was making his way over to the easy chair in the corner of the room, Kai’s eyes following him the whole time. “Well, tell me . . .”

And then, the guitarist settled himself into the chair . . . with his legs spread over both arms. Which meant his bottom was parted and uptilted and looking very welcoming. Not to mention there was a lovely view of what was in front of it as well.

“How do you want it?” Uruha said in his sexiest purr.

A tease. This was all a tease. Which made Kai take another big swallow of his namesake. The man was going to drive him mad.

“You think about it,” Uruha said, getting up from the chair, reaching for something in the overnight bag he’d brought. “I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the bathroom.

Once the door clicked shut behind him, Kai set the glass down on the nearest table, and then quickly busied himself with shedding his clothes. Because whatever Uruha had planned, Kai wanted to be naked sooner rather than later. He didn’t want to waste any time.

Once he was done, he sat on the bed, took the glass in his hand again and sipped at the liquid. It really was nice, the way the ginger and lemongrass flavors melded. Spicy and intriguing . . . like a hot kiss from a lover holding the promise of more. And good Lord, when did he start thinking like a perfume ad?

And then the bathroom door opened, and there was a beautiful vision standing there wearing a yukata. Traditional and simple, navy blue with a white print – on any other man on the planet, it would look like something one would wear to and from a bath.

On Uruha, it looked more seductive than a transparent veil.

“I can think of some more creative ways to have Kai,” he said, making his way over to the bottle again. “Some I’ve been dying to try.”

He tipped it back into his mouth as he approached the bed, then leaned over, bringing his lips to the drummer’s, their mouths parting right away, the booze flowing between them. Kai swallowed it, then tipped his head back, exposing his neck to Uruha’s attentions, moaning softly as the guitarist swept his tongue from the bottom to the top and then down again.

“You like it like that, don’t you?” Uruha murmured. “Long . . . and hot . . . and wet.” And then, a nip. Kai felt himself shiver head to foot. His head was swimming from the booze already. Add to that Uruha looking like an erotic fantasy, and acting like a porno come to life, and . . .

And before Kai knew it, he was pulling Uruha to him in a crushing embrace, kissing him hard and flipping him over onto the mattress so he was lying on his back. It caught the guitarist off-guard – he could tell from Kai’s naked state that his lover was eager, but he didn’t think he’d be this flat-out aggressive!

Not that he minded, Especially not when Kai was undoing the tie of his yukata, and pushing it aside, and reaching for his glass of his namesake. He tipped it over, spilling a few drops over Uruha’s nipple.

Then, he leaned over, licking at the bud eagerly, and Uruha leaned his head back, letting out an “mmmm.” That became a purr as Kai started to suck, scraping very lightly with his teeth.

“Ohh,” Uruha sighed. “Yes . . . you know I love that . . .”

Kai reached for the glass again, saw it was empty, and grabbed for the full bottle. He poured a trail down his lover’s stomach, and began to lick his way down, Uruha moaning with every sweep of his tongue.

As good as this stuff tasted on its own, it tasted ever better licked off firm, hot flesh.

“Yes,” Uruha panted. “Yes, keep going . . .”

Kai was only too glad to answer the request. He poured a little – just a little – over his lover’s cock, and leaned over, touching his tongue to the fluid.

Oh, this was delicious, unlike anything he’d felt or tasted before. The spiciness of the liquor, the heat of Uruha’s cock, the familiar texture . . . When he reached the head, he poured another small amount right over the tip, and slid his tongue back and forth over the sensitive opening, tasting the first drops of precome mixed with the Kai.

As if the liquor couldn’t get more delicious . . .

He lifted his head and came back up to Uruha’s lips, kissing him, pushing his tongue into the other man’s mouth, letting him taste the combination of himself and the liquor. Uruha and Kai.

Kai felt the other man grab his shoulders and roll them both over until he was on top. Uruha sat up, panting, straddling the drummer’s thighs – and giving him a wonderful view. There was Uruha, hair mussed from their earlier play, lips swollen from kisses, yukata hanging open, covering much of his body but leaving his full erection very much on view.

The hell with the alcohol. Kai could get drunk just on that sight.

He reached up with both hands, pushed under the yukata, and rubbed his fingers over both nipples – then moaned when Uruha slid his hands up Kai’s chest and did the same to him.

The lovers stayed that way for a long moment, fingers sliding over hardened buds, circling them, gently pinching. The air was filled with soft sighs and moans.

Then, Uruha grabbed the bottle again, and poured some over Kai’s nipple, then down his stomach. He leaned over, and when he touched his tongue to the nub, it was so over-sensitive from what his fingers had just been doing that Kai arched upward, crying out in pleasure.

Uruha licked and licked, cleaning the nipple of the alcohol, and then he took it in his lips and sucked, because why leave any behind? Kai was tangling his fingers in his lover’s hair with one hand, the other fumbling on the nightstand for the small bottle of lube they’d put there earlier.

He felt the tongue move lower, sliding down his belly, licking Kai off Kai. As Uruha did so, he shifted so his legs were on either side of Kai’s body. Which meant the more he bent over, the more that ass – covered by the yukata – was within Kai’s reach.

A quick swipe of the hand, and the cloth was out of the way just as he felt the splash of the alcohol against the head of his erection.

As Uruha’s tongue began to slide down Kai’s cock, then up, swirling and darting and teasing, Kai began to push a lubed finger into his lover’s bottom. Uruha nearly mewled with pleasure, running his tongue along the shaft slowly – wanting to drive him nuts, but not take him too far.

Not when Kai’s fingers were proposing such an interesting possibility for them both.

Kai shuddered as warm sensation flowed through him with every flick of his lover’s tongue, Uruha licking up every drop and then some – and being sure to make detours to sensitive areas. Like, for instance, a certain spot at the base of the head, which made Kai let out a near-growl.

A second finger pressed into Uruha, scissoring gently, as he raised his head just long enough to pour more Kai on, well, Kai. His tongue moved bottom to top, sweeping away the liquor, tasting the heady mix of booze and precome.

He was fighting the urge to take the whole thing in his mouth and suck when the third finger pressed inside, opening him up fully. No, he had to wait, he had a plan for what he wanted to do.

The fingers withdrew, and Uruha lifted his head, looking back at Kai and holding out his hand. Kai understood, and passed him the lube. Uruha poured it in his hand and began to slick his lover’s erection, smoothing the lube over the hot, hard flesh.

He sat up, and turned around, straddling Kai again, but this time right on top of his cock. The guitarist guided it in place with his hand, then began to slide down, feeling it part him, fill him. He threw his head back, tongue licking his lips, tasting Kai and Kai.

Kai kept his eyes open, despite the wonderful sensation sweeping through him, the deliciousness of Uruha’s heat pulling him in. He just had to look at the view, the same one as before, only hotter – because the gorgeous, wild-looking, half-clad creature astride him wasn’t just teasing him, he was making love to him. The cloth draping his body shifted here and there, revealing some skin, hiding some other, making him look more alluring than if he were naked.

Uruha braced his hands on Kai’s chest as he paused, panting, his body adjusting to the penetration. He reached over to the bottle of alcohol, poured some in his mouth, and leaned over, kissing Kai, pushing the lemongrass and ginger beverage forward with his tongue.

The two of them just savored everything – the taste of the drink, the feel of their bodies linked together, the sight and scent and texture of each other. This was tasting the pleasure on every conceivable level.

Finally, Uruha sat up and started to move his hips, a slow thrust at first, making them both moan with the slow-building heat . . . and the promise of what was to come.

The pace began to increase, gradually, Kai starting to raise his hips in time with Uruha’s thrusts, still unable to take his eyes off the gorgeous vision above him – which grew even more beautiful the more he moved. A light flush covered his skin; his head tossed back as his eyes closed, a deep moan coming from the lush lips.

They moved together faster, and faster still, until it was a full thrust, the sound of flesh hitting flesh filling the air along with their heavy breathing and moans. Uruha finally shrugged the yukata off, the fabric sliding down his arms and dropping. To Kai, it was like the revelation of a heavenly vision, every inch of that skin bared to him at last, glistening with sweat, Uruha’s own fingers coming up to brush over his erect nipples.

“You feel so good,” Uruha moaned. “Oh, Kai, you’re so big, I’ve never had a man like you before . . . “

The dirty talk, of course, just made Kai thrust up against him faster, and harder, and wrap his fingers around Uruha’s erection, starting a rapid stroke. “Aaahh!” the guitarist cried. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop . . .” And Kai did what he was asked, rubbing his thumb over the head on the upstroke, smearing precome around . .

Uruha leaned back, lost completely in pleasure, feeling the familiar pressure building inside him. . . “Just a little more,” he panted. “A little more, Kai, I’m so close . . .”

Kai rubbed his thumb over the tip again, slowly, and it was what Uruha needed. He thrust down hard, and Kai felt those muscles clutch at him as his lover cried out, his wetness spilling over Kai’s hand.

Those sensations enough were all that Kai needed to go hurtling over the edge, and he arched up sharply as he let out a long, loud moan, pouring himself into the one he loved.

Uruha collapsed atop Kai, the two of them kissing, clinging to each other.

“If that’s what that stuff does,” Uruha said, breathlessly, “we’re getting a whole case of it.”

“Mmmm . . .” Kai just wanted to snuggle. He felt sated and warm and happy and in love and, yes, drunk. Oh, he was going to pay for this, he knew. “I love you.”

Uruha kissed his forehead. “I love you, too.” And then, as if reading his earlier thoughts . . . “Hey . . . don’t go to sleep yet, babe. You need to drink water.”

Kai raised his head, puzzled. “Water?”

“Lots of glasses of water,” Uruha said. “That’s the key to not being hung over tomorrow. Trust me on this.” He gave Kai another kiss and hopped out of bed. “I don’t want this night having a bad ending. I expect a lot more like it.”

He headed for the bathroom, and Kai leaned back on the pillows with a sigh. It had been one hell of a night, all right. He still didn’t know if that bottle of shochu with his name on it was the real deal or an elaborate prank pulled by someone, but either way, he wanted to thank the person.

It was the most memorable night he’d ever had – and when you were with Uruha, that was saying a lot.

* * *

When the two couples fled the club, they passed a round table at the back of the room, slightly bigger than the ones that they had been sitting at. Two figures sat watching, one tall and reed-thin, the other short.

“Well. Does that surprise you at all?” the tall one said, taking a sip of his drink.

“Not one bit,” the smaller man said, lighting a cigarette. In fact, the only thing that surprised him was that they didn’t leave earlier.

“So now you can tell us,” said the shorter man’s date, lighting a cigarette of his own. Okay, his efforts to quit hadn’t been successful. He’s just have to try again . . . sometime. Later. Like, maybe when their next tour started. Or after it.

“Tell you what, Aoi?” the tall man said. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Oh, come now.” The tall man felt his own boyfriend lean over and grasp his hand. “We know the two of you all too well. One of you set this up. Or both of you.”

“What?” the two said in unison, looking at each other, then back at their companions.

“Are you accusing us of sending those bottles over to get them drunk?” the shorter man said.

“Ruki, you have to admit, it does sound suspicious,” Aoi said, casually. “You’ve always had a vested interest in Kai and Uruha being together.”

“And you have even more of a vested interest in Shou and Hiroto, Saga,” Tora added.

“I don’t believe this!” Saga said. “How come every time something like this happens, we get accused of being the perverts?”

“You actually think we got them drunk to see how far they’d go with each other on the dance floor?” Ruki said.

“You probably think we even took bets on it!” Saga added.

“Number one, your track records speak for themselves,” Tora said. Bass licking and cane abuse, for instance. Or openly admitting to watching porn on a live webcast and writing flat-out smutty lyrics.

“Number two, if anyone should know how hentai you are, it’s us,” Aoi added.

“Oh, for the love of . . .” Ruki finished his glass and pushed it at his lover. “Time for the next round. You two buy this time.”

“Sure, sure,” Aoi said, collecting his own glass and Ruki’s. “Maybe we’ll come back with Kai Shou-chu this time.”

“Just get the drinks!” Saga said, shoving his own glass toward Tora.

The two men left the table, waiting until they were a safe distance away before they burst out laughing. “I think that was the best part of the evening yet,” Tora said.

“I’d do it all over again just for that,” Aoi said. Seeing those two get mad over being accused of perversion was like seeing the sun get mad over being accused of heat.

“It’s a lucky thing we spotted those bottles,” Tora said. Of course, the two couples didn’t know that their bandmates were in the club as well when they came out on this double date. They just happened to land at a seat that gave them a good vantage point of the whole room.

And then, when Aoi and Tora went to the bar to buy the first round (since waiters seemed to be in short supply in their part of the room), they saw the Kai shochu being unpacked from a crate, and got a wicked idea . . .

“We’re going to have to come clean before the evening’s over,” Aoi said. “Or else we’re both going to end up sleeping on the couch for sure.”

“We may end up on the couch anyway,” Tora said. “But it’s worth it. Oh, and by the way? Shou and Hiroto left the room about 30 seconds before Uruha and Kai, so I win the bet.”

“Fine,” Aoi said. He’d have to buy Tora an extra drink tonight. But that was worth it, too.

The evening had provided them with a double shot of entertainment.


End file.
